


make you real proud of your baby

by DarkBard



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Age Difference, BDSM, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Edging, F/F, Free Use, Genital Piercing, Lactation, Nipple Piercings, Reference to Flogging, Reference to Wax Play, Sex Slave
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-18 17:28:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29121933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkBard/pseuds/DarkBard
Summary: Triss finds herself wearing less and less every time she sees Ciri.
Relationships: Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon/Triss Merigold
Kudos: 29





	make you real proud of your baby

Perhaps as an unaging, extraordinarily powerful sorceress, Triss should be discouraging Ciri’s adorable little crush. 

She’s always been aware of it, ever since Ciri was young and studying beneath her: the averted eyes, the blushing bright pink, the nervous giggle. It’s harmless—who hasn’t been enamored of a mentor figure? Triss fondly remembers afternoons of private lessons with Rita back when she was still Mistress Laux-Antilles to Triss, the way she yearned for her, the way she felt so ugly and awkward next to her glamorous teacher, the way she thrilled with every touch from her mentor.

Now that Ciri’s grown into a fierce, stunning young woman, well. It’s a bit harder to brush off as an adorable little crush.

She’d harbored suspicions of Ciri’s preference toward women for a while, but it’s one thing to hypothesize about the girl’s sexuality and quite another to actively encourage her adolescent fantasies. But since she first noticed the way Ciri stared at her like something she wanted to devour on an evening she wore a particularly revealing gown—a gift from Yennefer, in fact, a plum dress with an extensive ornate cutout section across the chest—she couldn’t help but preen under the unsubtle, enamored arousal Ciri seemed unable to hide.

So she shows a bit more skin every time. A high slit up the thigh and an absence of underclothes beneath, a flimsy white summer dress so thin it’s nearly transparent...

A rich copper ballgown with a neckline so wide and deep you could see the beginnings of her areolas. 

“Triss!” Ciri cries in a choked delight, blushing a deep magenta that’s most becoming as she unabashedly stares at Triss’s chest. As usual, Ciri’s clad in men’s garb, belted and tucked and hemmed and fitted perfectly to her pretty little form.

Triss wraps the girl in a warm embrace, a hand lingering on the small of Ciri’s back. Ciri’s breath catches prettily at the touch. When Triss pulls away, Ciri’s lips are wet, her pupils blown wide, breathing hard.

Triss slips a hand up to cup Ciri’s face. “Oh, forget this stupid dinner,” she whispers conspiratorially, a little grin in her eyes, “let’s go find somewhere and catch up.”

*

They find an empty study, a little divan before the fireplace. “This is perfect!” Triss sighs happily, pulling Ciri down to sit beside her, their thighs pressed together. “You simply must tell me everything you’ve been up to since I last saw you, darling.”

“I—uh, well, I—met up with Geralt for a bit, hunted a…” Ciri never does tell what she and Geralt were hunting, too preoccupied with the way Triss’s fingers idly stroke at her own collarbone, at the way the already revealing neckline gapes open at the movement.

Triss tilts her head, looking at Ciri with a practiced innocence in her eyes. “Ciri, dear? You seem awfully distracted, is anything the matter?”

Ciri startles, blushing again and stammering that no, no, she’s quite all right.

“Are you sure?” Triss asks. “Cirilla, you know I don’t like it when you lie to me.”

Ciri _moans_. She glances at Triss in horror for one frozen moment, then stares at the floor. 

Triss waits a moment, watching every motion, but the girl looks terrified. Well, that certainly won’t do. The enchantress gently pushes onward, frowning and pulling feebly at the neckline of her dress. “Darling, you don’t mind if I slip out of this bodice to breathe for a moment while it’s just us girls, do you? This wretched thing is dreadfully uncomfortable.”

Ciri just nods, her breath a little ragged as she watched Triss unhook the dress’s closures, letting it fall and pool at her waist. She lets out a single huff of laughter that sounds bizarrely like Geralt. “You flirting with me, Triss?” She’s clearly aiming for snark, joking, but the sound is endearingly vulnerable instead.

Triss stretches back against the divan’s arm, slipping her still-clothed legs into Ciri’s lap and giving her a sweet, sly smile. “I might be,” she murmurs, tracing lazy fingertips around the outside of her breast, leaving a trail of gooseflesh in their wake. Ciri’s eyes trace it too. “Why? Do you want me to?”

Those flashing green eyes meet hers with a fiery desperation. “Want you to do more than flirt,” she breathes.

Triss’s smile is as radiant as the sun. “Whatever you like, darling.” She fondles her breast, squeezing at her hard nipple with a little whine. “Want you naked. Now.”

Ciri obeys immediately, ripping off the thick cotton shirt, the leather trousers, the worn boots until she’s completely bare and standing before Triss. “Where do you want me?”

Triss merely glances downward, and Ciri falls on her knees. Triss lets out a delighted giggle. “What a perfect girl you are!” She props one leg up on each of Ciri’s shoulders, guiding her toward her core but stopping just shy of it. “Now, darling, I want you to touch yourself. Do a good job and you’ll be rewarded.”

Ciri moans as she slips a finger between her legs, dragging the hot slick up to rub tentatively on her clit.

“Right there, darling,” Triss praises. “But harder, Ciri, more. I want to see you fall apart.”

She’s shaking in seconds, muscles spasming as she struggles to hold herself together, twitching, _fuck so close_ …

“Stop!” 

Ciri lets out a sob as she rips her hand away from her cunt, tension holding in every cell of her body as she teters at the brink for a moment before it subsides, sinks down back inside her, pushing it down. 

“Perfect, love, so good for me, you’ve earned a reward, haven’t you?” She pulls Ciri forward, the young girl immediately setting to work eating her cunt. “I knew you’d love it.” She smiles, moaning softly as Ciri sucks on her clit. “Touch yourself,” she says, “get yourself right to the brink then stop yourself at the very last minute possible.”

They stay like that for what feels like hours, Ciri bringing Triss to four orgasms with her mouth and hands and toys while bringing herself to the verge of seven but denying each one, her frustration and desperation growing stronger by the minute.

“Enough,” Triss announces, pushing Ciri gently away from her cunt. She drinks in the look of Ciri between her legs, face and hair all as drenched as the floor beneath her cunt. She looks a delicious mess.

“Now it’s time you rejoin the party.”

Ciri stares at her in amazement. “But...but I haven’t…”

Triss laughs, bright and sudden. “Oh darling, you didn’t think you’d be coming _today_ , did you?” Triss kisses her lips quickly. “Gods, but you’re precious,” she sighs.

*

“Might I interest you in a bit of wax play? Yes, I’ll be dripping scalding candle wax onto your cunt, but I’ll let you come anytime you like!”

*

“How would you feel about restraints?”

“Restraints?”

“You know, rope or shackles or maybe a pillory or stocks. Incapacitate you then fuck you until you can’t see straight? How does that sound?”

“ _Yes_.”

*

“ _Please_ , Miss Merigold,” Ciri cries, humping desperately against the sorceress’s foot, “ _please_ flog my tits.”

*

After all she’s allowed at Triss’s bequest, she’s never looked this hesitant before. “You’re...you’re sure?”

Triss sighs, running a comforting hand to pat the small bare breast before pinching her nipple so hard Ciri cries out. “I assure you, it’s no worse than that,” Triss explains calmly. “The pain is fleeting. The sensation, though...it will be worth it, I’m sure of it.” She flicks the little pink buds, Ciri moaning in pain and pleasure. “Gods, you’re already so sensitive. It’d be a crime not to give you this pleasure, darling.”

She cries out when Triss’s needle glides through her nipple. Her cunt throbs with the pain.

She stares down at them, the matching silver rings, in awe. “They really are beautiful,” she says softly.

Triss looks her over thoughtfully. “We’re almost there,” she muses, “though there’s still something missing. Oh! I know.” Triss sinks to her knees, pulls the loose hood back from her clitoris, and slips the needle through, quick as anything.

*

“My beautiful guests,” Triss says, raising her goblet in toast toward them all. She’s clad only in the wine-red lingerie she’d had commissioned specially for the occasion. A few of her guests—the more risqué members of the Lodge, acquaintances noble and common alike who had some connection to the particular and exacting proclivities of the group—are fully dressed, another few fully nude, but most are like Triss, dress in luxuriant gear of leather and lace and silk. “Thank you so much for joining me this evening. Please be welcome and enjoy all my hospitality has to offer.” Triss rips the cloak off the still form at her feet.

Ciri sits perfectly still on her knees. An ornate silver collar decorates her thin neck. A long thin silver chain connects the ring on her clit to the loop on the collar, to be held like a leash.

Her nipple piercings, however, ave been removed tonight for a greater purpose.

Triss tugs her up by the chain, and Ciri bites back a moan at the pain, hurrying to stand to relieve the pressure. 

“And of course, I’d be remiss if I did not acknowledge why we gathered today. I want to introduce you all to my newest little pet; she’s thrilled to serve you all this evening!” Triss took Ciri’s small breast in her hand, rubbing a thumb over her wet, aching nipple before squeezing the teat roughly, a hot stream spraying out. A soft collective moan of approval travels through the onlookers.

“Please help yourself to my darling little slut,” Triss adds sweetly. “Drink the sweetest milk you’ve even tasted or use her however you see fit. Whether you’re in need of a hole, a body to whip, a cumrag to clean you between rounds, or just some lubrication,” and at this Triss rubs a hand through Ciri’s sopping cunt, showing the juices running down her hands to her captive audience, “please don’t hesitate to use her.” Triss slips something heavy onto her clit's ring and Ciri keens. A weight, tugging her down, down, ever down, and she stumbles slightly she hears the high clear sound. _A bell_.

“This way the darling slut is easy to find,” Triss continues, slapping her mound so the bell jingles aggressively. A few of the men reach for their cocks.

Triss smiles brightly. “Shall we begin?”


End file.
